Changes
by LonelyIguana
Summary: Jennifer MacKenna is living your average high school graduate's life... until she is abducted and taken to Ireland. Boy, does this pointy-faced Irishman have some explaining to do... Funny now, Romance later. AFxOC, R&R.
1. Chapter 01

Changes

Chapter 01

No way, really, to introduce this... just read it and review. You have to review. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. Just do it. Lots of constructive criticism, please, because I KNOW I need help.

.o.O.o.

Jennifer MacKenna sat up groggily from her place on the floor. She looked around and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, She had been laying on the floor of her bedroom, wrapped in her quilt and sheets. She looked over the edge of her bed, eyes meeting with those of her cat, Alexander, who was smiling a scary, Cheshire Cat-like grin.

"Crickey," she moaned, rolling back onto her side. "I feel like someone's knocked me out with a baseball bat." She glanced at her alarm clock, which read 3:53 p.m. "Great."

Forcing her self to get up, Jennifer teeter-tottered into the hall. "I know what I feel like," she said to Alexander as she reached the bathroom. "I have a hangover." Jennifer looked downward to see what was making the bottom of her pajamas wet, and noticed sleepily that steam was billowing out from under the bathroom door. "JUSTIN!" She bellowed, banging on the door. "Justin, I feel like a drank two crates of vodka last night... THAT HAD BETTER NOT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES!"

"WHFD?" came a muffled voice from within the bathroom.

"What?" Jennifer asked, loudly and angrily.

The sound of running water stopped, and Jennifer could hear the slap of wet feet coming towards the door. A tall, olive-skinned teen stuck his head out from behind the door. "I said: What?"

"I said: I feel like I won the international drinking contest last night. Do you have any idea why?" Jennifer said, watching the steam streak out the top of the bathroom door.

"Actually, I haven't got a clue why you feel like that, other than the fact that you asked Chris to hold your cup last night."

"Oh, crap." Jennifer's face fell.

"'Oh, crap,' is right," her brother agreed solemnly. "Lucky for you, you couldn't embarrass yourself because you locked yourself in your room. But..."

"But what, Jason?" Jennifer demanded. She could only imagine what it was her brother was reluctant to spill.

"Well, you couldn't get out of your room when you got sick..."

"Oh, gross. Oh, GROSS." Jennifer turned on heel and ran back down the hall. "THANKS A WHOLE LOT, JUSTIN!"

"What did I do?" Justin mumbled to himself, walking back into the bathroom to finish his shower.

Jennifer walking warily into her room, watching her feet like someone might when walking through a mind field. She knew it was here somewhere... oh, gross, there it was. Luckily for Jennifer, her room had a wooden floor, so there wouldn't be much of a stain. However, she still had to clean up her own puke.

Jennifer walked into the kitchen to be greeted by her mother, busily scrubbing away at some stubborn spill on the linoleum floor, her curly black hair hitched up into a sloppy bun. "Morning, Jennifer."

"Mmhmm," Jennifer responded, absentmindedly watching her mother scrub the floor, momentarily forgetting why she had come into the room. "Hey, Momma, I need that... mop. I got sick in my room last night."

Her mother didn't respond, but Jennifer distinctly saw her mother duck her head and grin. "Mother, it's not funny!" Jennifer said.

"I know, I know, I don't condone drinking, either, but –," Mrs. MacKenna tried unsuccessfully to suppress her giggles.

"Gah, Mother!" Jennifer snapped. "I can't believe you think this is funny! You need to tell Justin to keep better control of his friends. You let them have free reign here on Friday nights."

"Au contraire, Mademoiselle," Mrs. MacKenna said, watching Jennifer grab the mop from the kitchen closet, "I made Justin take his friends out to one of their houses after I found out they spiked your drink."

"Yeah, that'll teach them."

"There was no lasting damage."

"That's what _you_ know."

"Chris doesn't have the _resources_ to get anything really bad, so you should be fine... unless you broke something while you were dancing around in your pyjamas."

"I was _dancing_?"

"That's what Justin said. He said you were dancing to Shania Twain's 'I feel like a Woman'."

"Lord help us all."

"That's what _I_ said. Justin said you nearly decked Matthew when he tried to change the song."

"Lovely." Jennifer marched back to her room, trailing the mop behind her. The sound of some 80's hair band was coming from Justin's loft, along with Justin's own voice. The racket was so loud that Jennifer couldn't hear the stomping about that was coming from her room

Unaware of any strange goings on, Jennifer opened the door to her room and said, "Now, where is that sick –," before falling unconscious to the ground. A tiny dart, the size and color of a lady bug, was sticking out of the back of her neck, and three figures, one normal, human sized, one huge, and one the size of a child, were examining the shot.

"Nice aim," said the tiny figure, touching the unconscious Jennifer lightly with his hand. "Well executed." The small figure was hovering off the ground.

"Thanks," said the larger figure, picking Jennifer up carefully and laying her over his shoulder. "Artemis, the others should be taking care of the mother and boy now... are they sure they have it right this time?"

"Foaly's equipped them with the most advanced memory altering technology. He assured me that, with a few letters from her every now and then, they'll not have a relapse. He made certain that there will be not be another 'Jumeau,' fiasco."

"Who was it that was taking care of her father... and friends?"

The tiny figure answered. "A girl from somewhere and a couple of the LEP agents... I think they got the girl to make sure the guys weren't too rough."

"Fine." The huge one sighed.

"Last one down, friend," the normal one patted his arm.

"Let's get back to Ireland."

"Alrighty then." The small one rubbed his hands together. "Let's go."


	2. Chapter 02

Changes

Chapter 02

Fowl Manor was unusually occupied. The usually quiet, lifeless building had music piping through an intercom system, ten or so teenagers running through the corridors with water guns and cheese whiz and another ten crashing in the newly installed swimming pool. Not that this meant they were altogether welcome there. Artemis Fowl had a migraine to end all migraines and his patience was running dangerously thin.

When Artemis had accepted the People's offer to host their human polygenetic heirs, he hadn't expected their 'heirs' to be a score of hyper, hormonal teenaged changelings. Well, they weren't changelings, per say, but they were at the origin of the folk tales. Human children, conceived by humans, born human, but faerie heirs none the less. These changelings were also the origin of nymphs, elementals, and the more "magical" faeries in folklore. There were supposed to be exactly 20 heirs, each to become one of the faerie aristocracy, two of them to become the next faerie magistrates. The 'harvest' of these heirs took place once every two millennia, and Artemis just happened to be at the center of one. He was the first heir identified, and seeing as he was the only mudman the faeries were in contact with at the time, he was the natural host for the heirs before they could go underground.

The fact that he himself was an heir was only slightly surprising and satisfying, but Artemis still found it hard to understand how he was related to the idiots banging on his door at 3 a.m. Artemis was used to the heirs's pulling all-nighters on occasion, but they seemed to be holding some kind of marathon now, and for goodness' sake, Artemis was a growing boy – he needed his sleep! He blamed this all on Jeniffer MacKenna, who's arrival had aroused much attention – and one pressing question.

The question being: When is she going to wake _up_?

The tranquilizer that had been carefully chosen and measured for Jennifer – so it would knock her out instantly and wake her up in exactly 6 hours and 48 minutes, which was the time it took for them to fly her to Ireland from Louisiana – had mixed with an unexpected ingredient in her blood stream – namely, alcohol – and she had now been incapacitated for 2 days.

Artemis walked to the door, opened it and glared at the evil little disturbances, who backed warily away, still looking expectantly at him. Artemis was not as antisocial as he once had been, but that didn't mean he was the friendliest of people, and it was three o'clock in the effing morning – as far as Artemis was concerned, it was too late at night – or early in the morning; which ever you prefer – to be _breathing, _let alone _partying, _for the love of all things good and holy.

"Let me have my peace, will you!" He growled in a very unamused way, glaring like an old man. Friendly and attractive stopped at midnight, for Artemis.

"We just wanna know when Jennifer is going to wake up – she's missing a great party, and we've been waiting for three days!" whined a tall black girl with long, relaxed hair.

"Yeah, you should know, Arts," said a thick set boy with curly brown hair and chiseled features. "Your the one who put her _in_ a coma."

Artemis, who was about five inches taller than the boy, rolled his eyes in a way that could have scared a grade-schooler. As it was, said thick-set chap backed up a couple of inches.

"I do not have any idea how long Ms. MacKenna is going to sleep; I don't know how much alcohol was in her system when she got the tranquilizer. I have said this many times and I refuse to say it again." He ground out the last bit between two rows of sparkling white incisors.

"Couldn't you tell something was wrong when she was put to sleep?" demanded the black girl.

"Put to sleep! What? The girl!" a red-headed girl named Christen yelped, having only caught the last half of the sentence as she came around the corner.

"We are not going to euthanize the girl!" Artemis said angrily, glaring at the ceiling.

"Oh," Christen said dumbly. "Then what were you talking about? Your not going to put Snuff to sleep are you? He didn't mean to chew up those loafers!" Her tone crescendoed.

"No, we are not putting your dog to sleep. Never mind what I said; I assume Jennifer will be waking up some time soon, so just... go. Do whatever." Artemis motioned for them to leave in a very tired way, and made for his bed.

Jennifer MacKenna had become a sort of icon for everyone; everyone memorized her name faster than they had any of the previous heirs, and everyone seemed to be taking great interest in her. Artemis had accidentally overheard one of the girls – Yuki Ito – discussing with another what _she_ thought Jennifer's guy-type was according to her clothes:

"Well, when I checked in on her, I thought she looked like one of those girls who are really into emo guys and such, because – well, she just looked emo – but when I went through her closet, I ran across a pair of Victoria's Secret yoga pants, and this opened up a world of possibilities: I mean, she could be a total snob because those pants _are_ expensive, or she could be very, very green because she's wearing yoga pants, _or _she could be very athletic and competitive, and the list goes on and on. I say she likes intelligent, genteel kind of guys, but maybe she doesn't even_ have _a type – she could be to busy to be interested in guys, not that _I_ could imagine... Of course, with such a nice body like she has, she could get any guys she wanted if she knew what to do. Don't get me wrong, I don't think she's a slut or anything, but...," etc., etc.

Artemis shivered. That conversation was just a little too awesomely scary for him to take in.

Of course, Artemis knew a lot about Jennifer; not that he had payed attention to her 'guy type', but he probably knew a few things about her that she would be embarrassed to mention in mixed company. He knew things like that about a _lot _of the heirs; he'd had to study many of them personally while in the process of identifying them as heirs – there had been a file sheet he had had to fill out for them, just like a profile sheet on an online dating site.

Personally, he was ready for Jennifer to wake up, so he could get the worst part of the process over with: the filling in. It was always the hardest part for him to explain, because it simply didn't make any sense said out loud.

As Artemis was tucking himself snuggly into his bed again, he heard the voices that had since disappeared coming back, and getting closer and closer... Oh, for the – they were banging on the door again.

"ARTEMIS FOWL!" could be heard in a variety of accents outside his door. "ARTEMIS!"

Now very mad, Artemis threw back the covers and marched over to the door, which he also threw back.

"WHAT!" he bellowed, hoping to silence the excited teenagers. It didn't have the effect he wanted, and they all grinned at him, laughing.

"Artemis, it's very important, I –," Artemis cut off the short blonde girl who had been speaking.

"Can't a man get some well-earned sleep every once and a while? What are you running off of? Did you find some hardcore espresso or something? Lay off the Rockstar and go to SLEEP!"

"No... Whatever, Artemis, look! She's woken up!"

Everyone's head turned towards the other end of the corridor, where a very confused looking Jennifer stood.

"Pardon my French, but where the hell am I?"


End file.
